


Promises

by Thistlerose



Category: Aladdin (1992), Disney Princesses
Genre: Background Character Death, Backstory, Collection: Purimgifts Extras, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jafar doesn't think an orphaned tiger cub is a suitable pet for a princess.  Nine-year-old Jasmine thinks he's full of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katmarajade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/gifts).



Nine-year-old Jasmine hid behind the pillar and listened while Jafar tried to tell her father what to do.

“Really, My Liege,” the Royal Vizier said in that icky, silken voice of his, which Jasmine just hated. “I must protest. Surely there are more suitable pets for the princess. A bowl of fish, for instance, or perhaps a cage of nightingales.”

 _But we_ have _those,_ Jasmine thought angrily. _And they’re no fun. Tell him, Father._

“Yes, well, you see,” the Sultan began. “Jasmine has always— That is to say, I believe Jasmine wants—”

“Forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty,” Jafar interrupted – not sounding apologetic at all – “but I believe we both know that what the princess wants is her mother, and all the magic in the world cannot bring her back.”

Like a punctured balloon, the Sultan seemed to deflate; he sagged against his throne, his eyes squeezing shut as if in pain. It was awful to watch. Jasmine curled her small hands into fists and pressed them against the cool marble of the pillar. She wanted to yell and scream and punch Jafar in the stomach. She also wanted to wrap her arms around her father’s shoulders and tell him that it was all right, really; she knew he missed her mother too.

“That’s what this is all about,” Jafar continued, with a casual flick of his hand. “It’s quite understandable. Children are simple creatures and the princess is no exception.”

Jasmine bristled.

“No good will come of your allowing her to keep this tiger cub,” he went on. “Without its mother, it will die, and I think we can agree that the princess has had enough heartache already. Dispose of it before she becomes too attached. In time, she will forget and—”

“No, I won’t!” Jasmine could no longer contain herself. Fists still clenched, she stepped out from behind the pillar and strode purposefully toward the throne. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father glance up, startled, but her attention was focused on Jafar. 

“I won’t forget,” she shouted when she was standing so close, she had to tilt her head back in order to peer into his beady dark eyes. “I’ll never forget.” Turning to her father she added desperately, “Please let me keep him. I’ll feed him every day, and take such good care of him. _Please_.”

The Sultan opened his mouth, but Jafar cut in quickly, “Princess, be reasonable. An orphaned tiger cub will not survive...”

“It will,” she insisted, still addressing her father, who was looking from her face to Jafar’s in apparent confusion. “It _will_.”

“It must be fed at least six times a day, I should think,” Jafar said. His tone was gentle, but Jasmine wasn’t fooled for a second. He was trying to make her doubt herself, to give up.

Why did it matter so much to him? she wondered. Jafar didn’t care about a poor tiger cub, and he certainly didn’t care about Jasmine’s happiness. Why, he’d probably be gleeful if her father let her keep the cub and it died ... which must mean he really thought the cub had a chance, and that was why he was trying to dissuade her.

She _hated_ Jafar. She wished her father would just get rid of him, but he’d been following his advice more and more, ever since the queen, Jasmine’s mother, had died.

“I’ll feed him,” she told her father. “Six times a day, every day. I’ll talk to the Royal Zookeeper about how to take care of him. I _will_ take care of him. I promise. Please, Father. I’ve already named him Rajah. Isn’t that a good name?”

Fighting to keep her tears back – if Jafar saw her crying, he’d have an easy time convincing her father that she wasn’t ready for this responsibility – she held her father’s gaze. After an agonizing minute, he blinked and shook himself, as if he were just coming out of a dream. Pushing himself up, he leaned toward her, ignoring Jafar. “It is a good name,” he said, smiling at her sadly. “But my dear ... the very last thing that I want is more pain for you. Orphaned animals are hard to keep alive.”

“I know,” she hurried to assure him. “But, don’t you see? It won’t be the same if we just give him to the Zookeeper to try to save. He won’t love Rajah like I will. And don’t you think it would be good for him if somebody loved him?”

She could feel Jafar’s tension; he was taut as a bowstring, holding his breath. Jasmine held hers too, but she let it out with a rush of relief when her father’s smile widened and he said weakly, “All right, Jasmine. If you think you can keep your promise to take care of him—”

“I can!”

“—Then you can keep him. But please, child, you must understand that he may not—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. “He will,” she swore. “I’ll see to it.”

And she did. Under the supervision of the Royal Zookeeper, Jasmine fed Rajah his milk six times a day; she cuddled him and played with him gently, and when he was old enough, she helped wean him. And Rajah thrived, as she knew he would, and became her friend – her first.

And she swore – to Rajah and to herself – that if her father didn’t do something about Jafar, as soon as she was old enough, she would.

3/17/2014


End file.
